


Helix

by yeaka



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Established Relationship, Ficlet, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-24
Updated: 2016-05-24
Packaged: 2018-06-10 09:00:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6949657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Elrond has morning problems that Lindir’s down for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Helix

**Author's Note:**

  * For [aprilreign](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aprilreign/gifts).



> A/N: Fill for aprilriegn’s “Elrond/Lindir, established relationship,Lindir serves Elrond breakfast, he notices Elrond has morning wood that will not go away, Lindir wants to help, Elrond is slightly embarrassed about it, he shruggs it off. Because of Elrond's human bloodline he is hornier than most elves. In the end he get a handjob/blowjob XD! Mature/Explicit” prompt on [the Hobbit Kink Meme](http://yeaka.tumblr.com/).
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own The Hobbit or The Lord of the Rings or any of their contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

Elrond’s still in bed when the knock comes—he has yet to decide how to deal with his problem. He knows that inviting his most frequent visitor in will only compound the issue, but he also knows that Lindir will fret at being sent away no matter what excuse Elrond gives him. So Elrond calls, “Come in,” and sets to rearranging his blankets as best he can.

The tent is still evident. Watching Lindir slip inside, bathed in the morning light through Elrond’s balcony windows, doesn’t help. Lindir carries a wooden tray in his hands, carefully balanced on one arm as he shuts the door behind himself again. Then he brings the tray to Elrond’s nightstand, setting it down and chirping, “The bread is a little dry this morning—I apologize for that. But I had the chef gather the best fruits for a side-salad that should do nicely.”

Elrond bites the inside of his lip, because in his current state, his mind can’t help itself from leaping to the last time they shared a fruit salad. Lindir had squeezed a plump berry between his lips, and the purple juices had burst across his pretty mouth, cascading down his chin for Elrond to lick away. He can still picture every little detail of the moment they shared a slice of pare between them.

He’s an Elven lord, much too old for such thoughts, such debasing imagery of his loyal attendant, and Elrond tries to keep the hunger from his face. But he realizes too late that he’s been staring at Lindir’s rear, and as Lindir straightens up again, he cocks his head to the side and asks, “My lord, is something wrong?”

Only Elrond’s troublesome mortal lineage rearing its ugly head. He says, “No,” but can see that Lindir doesn’t believe it. His eyes slide from Elrond’s face down the line of his body, over to his lap, which he hasn’t managed to properly hide. Lindir’s cheeks flush at the indent in the fabric, though Elrond’s sure he’s more embarrassed himself. 

He admits with a sigh, “I am not entirely Elven, as I am sure you are aware, and it does cause difficulties on occasion. But I cannot always give in to baser urges.”

Lindir nods distantly, as though he hasn’t really heard Elrond’s words. He’s staring down at Elrond’s lap, transfixed. Elrond keeps meaning to look away and reach for his breakfast but can’t seem to manage.

After a few minutes of awkwardly eyeing one another, Lindir mumbles, “But... surely, you can? You have me to satiate them...”

Lindir’s young, of course, and these urges are fiercer in youth, but Elrond still can’t help feeling as though he’s corrupted Lindir. Lindir is never so forward, so wanton and desirable, with anyone else. He sits slowly down on the bed, and, before Elrond can protest, runs his hand over the lump, applying just enough pressure for Elrond to _feel_ it beneath the fabric. Then Lindir’s eyes flicker up, and he asks, already dilated and flushed, “My lord, _please_... allow me to relieve you...”

Elrond doesn’t dare open his mouth, even though he thinks he should reject the offer—Lindir’s job is not to assuage his irritatingly frequent interest. He’s worried if speaks he’ll only say something foolish instead. Lindir leans forward and begs on, “I am sorry, my lord, that I did not offer this sooner—I did not know that your lineage... that you had such... occurrences in the mornings. But my entire morning is already dedicated to you. I rise every day from dreams of you and the memory of your touch, and I fetch new flowers for your room and breakfast to bring you, and I would like nothing more than to drink my own breakfast from your body...” Elrond betrays himself with a deep, wistful _moan_ ; Lindir’s hand is now encircling Elrond’s cock through the blankets, but the eagerness, the devotion in Lindir’s words and tone is what truly warms him. “ _Please,_ ” Lindir asks, sounding near breathless from his own thoughts alone, “I do not wish to think of you distressed in any way, nor would I have you attempt with your hand what I would give my whole body for. You are too wonderful, too kind, too handsome to suffer such alone. If I could only come to you every morning, I would be the happiest of all the elves of Imladris...”

And if he never left in the first place, but stayed the night, _Elrond_ might be the happiest. He always held himself back from that offer, thinking it unfair to trap such a young, vibrant minstrel with an old, fading warrior like himself, as their relationship is still new and tentative, but Lindir is making it difficult to remember why he protests so much. 

Lindir begs a final, “Please,” and then bites his lip and looks sheepishly down, like he’s been too shameful to continue meeting Elrond’s eyes. His cheeks are burning. But he stares down at Elrond’s crotch with such obvious lust that it seems almost cruel to keep him from it. Elrond is strong, but resisting Lindir requires more strength than he can manage. 

He’s impossibly hard, far more so than when he first arose from his delightfully erotic dream about this very elf. He sighs again, gives one tight nod, and concedes, “Very well.”

Lindir grins with such radiance that one would think he’d been made lord of all their people. His hands immediately dart to drag down the blankets covering Elrond’s crotch.

Then Lindir is pulling loose the sash and opening Elrond’s night robes, and he leans straight down as soon as Elrond’s cock leaps free. Lindir engulfs half the length in his hot mouth, locking tight around it as he wets it and gives a hearty suck. Elrond’s eyes nearly roll back into his head. He drops a hand to pet fondly through Lindir’s hair, and Lindir sets to quickly bobbing up and down, happily swallowing his lord until the other, less fun breakfast grows quite cold beside them.


End file.
